


Wake Up Call

by Atalan



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Oneshot, Short, let them eat cake, lockdown fic 2.0, together, wake the snake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:00:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25018903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atalan/pseuds/Atalan
Summary: It's the first of July. Do YOU know where your snake is?
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 72
Kudos: 1018





	Wake Up Call

Crowley hits snooze fifty-seven and a half times. The half is because, on the fifty-eighth attempt, someone snatches the phone out from under his flailing hand and silences it for good.

"Mrffdnmngl?"

"Come now, my dear, it was getting quite ridiculous."

Crowley considers this through a fog of sleep.

"Flgbrlr."

"You don't need five more minutes, you've been asleep for two months."

Crowley _always_ needs five more minutes, but something's starting to penetrate the drowsy haze, a certain sense that something about this scenario isn't quite right.

"Azffmlffl?"

"Of course it's me, who else would it be? Oh, I knew I should have made coffee, I just can't quite get that machine of yours to listen to me. I told it to make you an espresso and it keeps pouring out those milky lattes with all the sugar, and I know you don't like those."

That sounds pretty great to Crowley, actually, although he'd never admit it outside these walls.

Walls. There's a thought. _Walls_. Walls. Wa-alls. These walls, specifically. _His_ walls. The walls of his flat. Which he went to sleep inside.

Which definitely did not contain a petulant angel at that time.

Crowley forces an eye open and focuses blearily on the white-and-beige blur that is probably Aziraphale. It appears to be sitting on the edge of his bed. That or they're both on the ceiling and he's comfortably perched on a light fitting.

"Whtchdngrr?"

"Ah, well." The blur moves in way that is suggestive of hands rubbing nervously on his trousers. "You see, they've changed the rules."

Crowley makes a valiant effort to open the other eye, but it doesn't seem to have got the memo yet. He makes an interrogative noise.

"Yes, you see, you and I, we can— we can form a _bubble_ now. If, um. If you like."

Crowley momentarily backslides by closing his one open eye and drifting in some bewilderment through a mental landscape of pink, fluffy clouds and angels blowing bubbles.

" _Crowley_. Do wake up, it's been such a long time." There's a pause, and then, very softly, "I've missed you."

Both of Crowley's eyes fly open at that, and his brain finally seems to find first gear. He rolls around a bit, trying to get his bearings, and wondering why he was dreaming so intensely about Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte.

Aziraphale comes into focus, definitely sitting on the edge of the bed, watching him with a mixture of fondness and exasperation. He is definitely not two metres away. Crowley can't remember why that's important, until his higher functions finish booting up, and supply him with a sudden and surprising dose of context.

He sits up cautiously.

"Pandemic over, then?"

Aziraphale's expression turns unhappy.

"Far from it, I'm afraid," he frets. "Honestly, Crowley, the whole thing has been _dreadfully_ mismanaged, I've half a mind to— anyway. It's all still happening, and I have a feeling it's going to get rather worse before it gets better, but for now the rules have relaxed somewhat, and, well..."

He trails off hopefully. Crowley blinks stupidly at him, and it's only partly because he wants to make Aziraphale say it. He really does need caffeine to wake up properly.

Aziraphale sighs, and harumphs, and then actually _smiles_ a bit, like maybe he doesn't mind saying it so terribly much.

"What I mean is, if you would still like to slither over to the bookshop, my dear, that would be quite socially acceptable at this time."

Crowley gives this some consideration.

"What if they change the rules again and you end up stuck with me?"

"Oh," says Aziraphale, sounding positively delighted at the thought. "I'm quite sure we will manage."


End file.
